


Where in the World Is William Sherlockscottholmes?

by gardnerhill



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Prompt Fic, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:09:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anais Nin said, “We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.'” … And then there’s Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where in the World Is William Sherlockscottholmes?

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2014 JWP Practice Prompt **#10: The Grand Tour.** Also doubles as an editorial about the BBC Sherlock Christmas mini-sode “Many Happy Returns.”

“Nepal? You went to Nepal?” John’s face showed his eagerness to hear more. “What was it like?”

Sherlock waved one dismissive hand. “Windy. The monks were idiots.”

John blinked. “The monks. Were idiots. That was everything you took away from the top of the world? The land of Everest? Of the Dalai Lama?”

His flatmate shrugged. “That was where the smuggler went to ground, and that was where I found her – the only other white person in the monastery, wrapped in a saffron robe. And the monks didn’t notice there was a blonde English woman living with them. Idiots, as I said. Boring. After that, I travelled to New Delhi.”

“Oh, now that’s a beautiful city!” John leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Did you see the Red Fort? Humayun’s Tomb? The  Akshardham? The Lotus Temple?”

“Caught a murderer for Inspector Prakesh.” Sherlock yawned and scratched his jaw. “Commonplace little murder, a good one for me to fix without giving myself away. His lot’s as bad as Lestrade’s. They’d still be staring at a melted puddle of ice cream if I hadn’t shown up. Almost as bad as that jury in Hamburg.”

“Hamburg.” John shook his head for a second. “All right. So you spent a good part of your … death … traveling in Asia and Europe. So tell me, Phileas – did you _do_ anything while you were in these places? Anything new, I mean. Did you try the food, see the sights? Talk to people? Go to museums?”

“I ate, obviously.” Sherlock shook his head, his tone clearly indicating his pity for John’s thickness. “I’m here, aren’t I? I talked to police. And I did alert the security guard in the Neanderthal Museum in Mettmann that the murder weapon had been stashed in a display case of flint hand-axes.”

John’s voice may have been a bit sharper. “Did you learn anything from traveling around the world?” Traveling the world and seeing the sights while John hated himself for not catching the warning signs of Sherlock’s impending suicide and let his grief eat him alive for two years, John did not add. 

That made Sherlock put his bow and rosin down and give John an incredulous look. “Travel around the world was simply the means by which I did my work. There’s nothing you need to learn by travel that you can’t get from information sources, 90% of the time. What’s the point of that?”

John nodded a little, then shook his head, meaning pretty much the same thing with both gestures. “ _Tasee yaast Sherlock ḵẖarsor_ ,” he said deliberately, and got up to make a cup of tea while Sherlock blinked in incomprehension.

 

* John says in Pashto (a language of Afghanistan), "Sherlock, you're an idiot."


End file.
